A New Kind of Hell
by KuriousKat256
Summary: Mindy was in a coma for only a week. And a lot can happen in a small amount of time. Specifically the zombie apocalypse. From what she's learned her family is dead and she's alone to try and survive in this new version of hell. Her life is pretty pointless to her now, but that opinion might change when she learns that not all the zombies have lost their humanity. Rating may change.
1. Apocalypse on Saturday

****DISCLAIMER: I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of its characters, only Mindy, her mother, and upcoming pet are mine.****

****Saturday, April 8****

****Today everything is still a blank to me. I woke up in this hospital bed and haven't been able to recover my memories sine. No one has entered my room and I haven't heard even one footstep in the building. It seems as if everyone or whoever was here, has disappeared or left. After probably an hour of awkward silence by myself I mustered the strength to get out of bed, even though my head throbbed heavily. When I opened the door I found that everyone really was gone. No one. Nada. I don't know how to explain it but it seemed like I was in an abandoned hospital and it hadn't been used for years.****

****I wander down each and every hallway, checked every bedroom and office, and even looked in the bathrooms (including the men's'). I was in the lobby and realized the basement was the last place to check, but I refused to go there because no matter how comfy and cozy a hospital may seem, every basement has some creepy effect to it. I continued to wait in the lobby and decided to check outside. As I approached the set of moving doors, they didn't open. I tried again and still they didn't open, so I decided to use the push doors. When I got outside I immediately ran back inside. That reason was because covering the streets were…..I can't say it…..ZZZZOMBIES! I swear they were everywhere. I had to be dreaming but when I pinched myself I didn't wake up. ****

**_**No no no no no, this can't be happening! Zombies didn't really exist! Or did they? No! That wasn't a question, of course they didn't exist! Zombies, the undead that eat your brains out? Those were only works of fiction, at least that what I thought, but considering the scene before me, I didn't really have much of a choice but to believe the unbelievable. **_**

****The only weapon I had at the moment was my knowledge on zombies in were slow, bloodthirsty, dumb, easily killed, normally travel in hordes, and smell of rotting flesh. This didn't really help the situation, considering I was still hiding in a hospital, with only a paper nightgown on.****

****I found my way back to my room and collapsed on my bed in tears. ******_**How could this be happening? Where is everybody? I want to see my family! Are they safe….or dead? Or worse, infected! **_******All these thoughts kept racing through my throbbing head as I continued to cry into the sheets of my hospital bed. I knew this wasn't going to keep me safe, or alive for that matter, and decided to do what any survivor of the Zombie Apocalypse would do: scavenge. ****

****I went to each room, only to find them in ruins from any patient who was trying to escape. If I was lucky the room didn't have the remains of the patient and some of the items were still salvageable. ****

****In the end I came out only with a mere ten items that I could use to possibly survive. The items consisted of a small first aid kit, a cell phone I found in a doctor's coat, some knives from the cook's private stash, an extra sweatshirt that was left in the waiting room, two bottles of pain relievers, two water bottles; cold and fresh, and a flashlight. It all seemed like pretty reasonable stuff to carry with me. ****

****Using a small food cart, I pushed all my new found "survival," items back to my room. There I packed everything into my bag that I had brought with me to the hospital when I first came here for surgery. ****

_****FLASHBACK: ONE WEEK AGO:****_

**_**"Mindt, honey, you won't even know it happened. You'll be asleep the whole time, I promise," my mother tried speaking soothing words to me as we drove in the car towards the hospital.  
"Easy for you to say mom, you're not the one having surgery," I pouted, turning to stare out the window.  
"But I have had it before, remember when I fell and had to have surgery done on my knee and elbow?" she recalled.  
"Of course I do. How could I forget? You weren't home for a whole two weeks! And when they did release you, you had to use a walker for whole month! It was awful," I told her once again.  
"Yes, I do remember that. But what you need done won't affect you physically like it did me. It's only a small incision in your above your stomach to prevent that extra bone from poking through," she explained.  
"That's reassuring," I stated sarcastically.**_**

**_**By the end of our conversation, my mother had pulled our navy blue jeep into the hospital's parking lot. The bright red letters spelling out EMERGENCY DRIVE IN, made me shiver. I had always hated anything that had to do with hospitals or doctors, or worst of all: needles! The mere sight of needles made my blood curdle. Once it was over though I was fine and happy to receive a colorful butterfly Band-Aid and Bubblegum lollipop. The rewards never swayed my hatred for the sharp objects, but it did make things more bearable for anyone who was lucky to be around me at the time. **_**

**_**The sound of automatic doors swinging open snapped me back to reality, freeing my mind, for now, of those horrible hospital memories. **_**

_****"Good evening ma'am, do you have an appointment?" the nurse at the front desk asked in a cheery voice.  
I hated nurses who were like that: always peppy, like watching crying kids and cripple adults come and go was enjoyable to them. I knew it wasn't, to them or anyone else, but the way they hid their dislike for their job was absolutely revolting, and in a way, offensive.****_

_****"Um, yes. We're here to see Doctor Colton for my daughter's surgery this evening. The appointment was scheduled to be at 7:30," my mother answered the nurse, handing her the form Doctor C had given her the day he came to the conclusion I needed surgery.  
"Of course, here you are. Just sign in on this clipboard and you can have a seat until Doctor Colton is ready," the nurse replied, pushing forward a clipboard and pen to my mother.  
My mother quickly scribbled in the sheet's questions and then led me over to a small couch in the waiting room. ****_

**_**The room was filled with more people than I expected to see on a Monday night, each of them seeming to have a varying condition from one another. Taking a seat next to my mother on the soft, red and gold couch, I pulled out my iPod to check for any texts or game updates I had missed. To my disappointment there was nothing new to view on my small Apple product, so I slipped it back into my hoodie pocket. **_**

_****Turning to the bag I had brought with me, incase I needed to stay overnight, I began to dig through its contents. All I found were some crossword puzzles, books, school work, a blank sketch book, and markers in case I felt the urge to doodle.  
I chose the sketch book and took an orange marker; my favorite color, and began doodling any images that came to mind. In the end, right when my name was called by another nurse, I had finished my sketch of a New York City landscape from my point of view. ****_

_****"Mindy Carters," the nurse called out to the crowd.  
"Oh, right here," my mother waved to the nurse.  
"Right this way ma'am," the nurse turned on her heel and began down the long hallway.****_

**_**The three of us arrived after climbing three flights of stairs to get to the fourth floor, since they had a basement, and came to a stop at a large room labeled: Surgical Room 256. The nurse swung open the hinged doors and motioned for us to follow her through. She led us to a small surgical table in the middle of the room and told me to lie down and that Doctor Colton would see us shortly. With that, she quickly left to go and attend to another waiting patient. **_**

_****"Do I have to have this done?" I whined like a three year old, giving my mother my best puppy-dog eyes.  
"Unless you want a bone poking through your stomach, and I know you don't, yes you do have to have this surgery done, TONIGHT," my mother stated her final word, giving me one of those motherly looks telling the child they'd better listen or just hope not to wake up tomorrow. ****_

_****I knew I wasn't going to get out of this situation and that it was better anyways, then having my stomach popped by an extra bone in my body. In the first place, that just sounds gross, and I'll tell you, it definitely is. Gross to the max. ****_

_****Doctor Colton popped his head back into the room smiling, "Mindy, were ready to start the surgery. The others will be in shortly to begin the procedure."  
Upon hearing that, I could practically hear my heart skip a beat, maybe two. All the color that had been in my face earlier was drained out, not leaving a single drop of pigment. Doctor Colton didn't even stay to make fun of my paling face and quickly left the room, leaving my mother and I alone again. ****_

_****"You'll be find Min, just don't think about it and it'll be over before you know it," my mother said, snapping her fingers in a quick and happy motion.  
"I'll be the judge of that, thank you very much," I replied, knowing that my sarcasm wouldn't have any real affect with my ghostly complexion and croaking voice. ****_

_****Five surgeons, seemingly about in their twenties, came filing into the room, pushing trays and strapping their masks to their faces. Now I could really hear my heart skip a beat, and maybe even stop for a whole minute. They gestured for me to lay down on the table, their eyes quickly, yet thoroughly, scanning over my body, like they had x-ray vision or something. ****_

_****"Okay Mindy, now we're just going to give you some medicine to help you sleep through the surgery. You won't feel a thing," one of the surgeons said in a feminine voice.  
Holding up a small, but still sharp, needle, she quickly injected the medicine into me. It didn't even take a minute before I began to feel my vision blur, just like the voices around me. My limbs began to feel like they were nonexistent, but I didn't mind. As long as I wasn't going to feel myself being cut and sliced open, I was okay with whatever they did to me. ****_

_****The last thing I remember, not trying to sound cliché here, was darkness...****_

_****PRESENT: HOSPITAL ****_

**It was hard to admit, but leaving this room, its tools of horror and everything, was going to be pretty hard now. It was now the only place I found safe, since every other place was, by chance, crawling with infected. This was probably-no it was-my worst nightmare come true. Even worse than the nightmare of being naked in school. Okay, maybe that was unnecessary information. Oh well. **

**The empty hallway, and what to think of what was just outside those automatic doors, made my stomach flip. I took my dear sweet time climbing the dark stairwell, not wanting to take a chance with the elevator, which could just possibly get stuck, and leave me to rot for the rest of my already short life. Yet, when I reached the bottom, I found that I hadn't encountered one infected person or just passed out from, well, everything. **

**Instead of trying to pry the automatic doors open, I just used the push doors I had come through just one, short week ago. When I peeked my head out, just to search the area out front, I found that there weren't any infected currently around the hospital. Maybe it was the fact that all the infected bodies that were here had already left to go and find other snacks made out of any survivors they could come across. **

**The only choice I had left was to just simply walk out and make my best attempt to survive in this hell. **


	2. Scruffy Days

The first day out on the streets of her newly shaped world went by like molasses. The heat became unbearable and all she wore was a white tank top, white sweater, and pair of loose skinny jeans; noting much. Mindy managed to find a small house, out of town, that was still in tact and didn't appear to be surrounded or show any signs of the undead. The house wasn't what she'd hoped for, but it provided enough protection and comfort for her to settle down there.

Showers and sinks had running water, but it was ice cold, so she didn't bother to use them unless it was for drinking. Luckily, the house had recently, or appeared to be, owned by a family with twin daughters, just about her age, so finding spare clothes wasn't a problem. What was a problem was the she had no idea where she was going and if she would be able to survive if she left the confines of the house. Taking a leap of faith seemed like the only logical option.

MINDY'S POV:

This had to be the worst situation that a human being could be stuck in! Zombies, zombies everywhere! I don't even know how to handle a firearm or survive on my own without depending on someone else for guidance. I could clearly tell that I wasn't going to last very long in this apocalypse.

At the time I was sitting on the couch in the basement of my "hideout," and going through their video games and junk. There was nothing much there, but I could tell that the twins that had once lived here were very dedicated tomboys. Their games consisted of almost every assassin, sniper, or war-involved disk that I could think of. I was about to see if the console worked, grabbing the first game on the shelf and popping it in. Reaching for power button, I suddenly heard a loud scratching noise coming from upstairs. It about scared the shit out of me. If it was one of those "special zombies," I would just about have a heart attack right there and then. I scrambled for my rifle, and bounded straight for the stairs. Whatever kind of shit bag was moaning around out there, no matter how much I wanted to run for the hills, I would stay and do my best to try and stay alive, without getting gross, slimy intestines on me.

When I reached the top of the basement stairs the scratching noise only got louder and more pitched. Now I was seriously scared shitless. Doing my best tippy-toes motion, I crept slowly over to the door and peeked through the peep hole. Nothing appeared on the other side of the glass, so I back away from the door and turned to go back to the basement. Yet, of course, before I could even place my hand on the doorknob, the scratching started up again; this time louder and longer. This time I didn't hesitate to reach for the other side of the doorknob, and began to turn it to the left.

The suspense was absolutely killing me! It was like I was living in my own horror flick, and I was the star of the night. As well as the main course for whatever monster lurked under my bed, in my closet, or even behind the shower curtain.

Flinging back the door, I took a giant leap back and raised my rifle and pointed it at the zombie. Except, this time it wasn't a fucking zombie like I had expected it to be. This time it was a...a...a dog. A big 'ol Great Dane in fact. When it saw my loaded rifle it quickly cowered back in fear of being shot. For me, the sight of a living, breathing being that wasn't bloodthirsty and brain dead made me cry. I could feel the well up tears finally falling over the edges, and hear the thump of my rifle falling to the ground. I felt terribly bad for scaring such an innocent creature and kindly reached out to it, hoping to win it's trust.

"Come here doggy, doggy," I whispered calmly, even if it did sound cheesy.

The dog just cocked its head to the side in confusion. Trying something different, I patted my thighs and made a gesturing motion with my finger to 'come here.' Still, the dog did not move, just continued to stare intently at me. Lastly, I tried whistling and the dog seemed to pick up the tune of the song, and inched closer to me.

"That's right. Come here, I'm not gonna hurt you little fella," I reached my hand farther out.

Recalling that I had some apple and pear slices in my pocket, I reached for the and pulled them out, handing them to the mouthwatering dog.

"You must be hungry," I commented, even if I was just talking to a dog.

The dog took and ate the fruit with an undying hunger, chomping on them, not trying to save any of the wonderful taste. I guess that was normal for a dog to do, or anyone at that, when their starving and alone in a world filled with the walking dead.

I welcomed the dog to my "family," with open arms, letting him sniff around the house and find his comfortable spot in the corner of the living room. In the end I decided to name him Scruff, because I found that his fur was extremely short and scruffy, hence the name. The two of us became fast friends, and we made sure to watch each other's backs just in case some "special zombie," decided to pick on us. Meeting Scruff was the best day since I had left the hospital, since I had been on my own for only a day, which was one day to many. Scruff seemed to agree with me and we quickly began to adapt to life in this new world.

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ONE WEEK LATER:

Scruff and I had done well and made it through our first week in the apocalypse. Scruff earned back his energy and enough muscle to take down an common infected. I had found, from writings on the walls from previous survivors, that the zombies that wandered the streets were called the Infected. There were special infected and many of them. There was common infected, which were just like zombies from a movie, moving slowly and attacking any moving thing on sight.

There were Jockeys, small, hunched over creeps that were like the clowns of the zombie race. Their skin was a pale, pinkish color, and you could see their ribcage showing through it. Most of them wore the same attire; loose white over shirt and ripped pants. The most annoying thing about them though wasn't their unattractive appearance, but their laugh. Each and every one screamed and laughed like a hyena, jumping atop people's heads and tearing at their face. They were definitely one of the worst to come across, even if you are well armed.

Next, there were Witches. These gals were the bitches of the zombie apocalypse. Seemingly, crying over their lost life, they spend their time in the corners of abandoned buildings, sobbing away into her clawed hands. Well, actually her claws were about five to seven inches, making them more like shears. If she was disturbed in any way, you were a goner. There was absolutely no chance, or at least none known of, that you could escape a Witch's grasp. Each Witch wore nothing but a loose, torn, white, tank top, and white underwear.

Boomers really lived up to their name. They were short and stubby, yet extremely fat and ready to explode. The pores in their bodies oozed with green, sticky liquids, and if alarmed or touched, the Boomer would explode. Right then and there. It was revolting and I had puked over my small morsels of food over and over again. Their shirts were always to big for them and reached their neck bone where their collarbone dipped in. Their pants were covered in more than I could imagine and didn't fit them either. On any level.

One of the worst infected though, were Smokers. These creatures were tall, dark, and beyond smelly. Their bodies, like many of the other infected, were covered in boils, running up and down their whole body. The peculiar thing about them was their tongue. It was long, dark, and dripping with saliva. The tongue never seemed to end unless the slimly appendage was around your body. Hence the name Smokers, they, of course, were covered in smoke clouds of their own.

Then there were Chargers, which also lived up to their given name. Their body was slightly uneven, given the one large arm-no huge arm-that was sticking out of their side. They used their "smasher," to get rid of whatever was in their way, such as humans. Brains, even dead ones, were not one of their most useful objects, so they replaced that with brawn. A lot and lot of brawn.

Especially gross, but not more than a Boomer, was a Spitter. Spitters were more dangerous than Boomers, but followed along the same path of a defense mechanism. They both used their bodily liquids to defend themselves, and go after prey. Spitters would have the top of their mouth in good condition, but the bottom half would be melted off by their secret weapon; their saliva. No longer made of slimy, transparent, spit, their saliva was made of acid. Green, hot, gross, melting acid. It hung off their jaws in long streams, and melted or burned anything it made contact with.

Oh my god, this Infected was a true monster. A Tank, as they called it, was the most dangerous and scariest beast that you could run into out there. Tanks were colossal masses of destruction. Unlike a Charger, Tanks had both arms double, maybe even triple sized. Having no temper or conscience at all, they were very easy to anger and be killed by. I had never seen a Tank, nor did I look forward to it if I did.

The last infected was one that oddly, but nonetheless interested me. Other survivors called it a Hunter. They were listed to be actually more dangerous than a Tank and any other infected known. Hunters probably appeared the most human to the eye, since they weren't covered in boils or oozing green fluids. They each donned a different color hoodie, always having the hood over their head, and always wore a pair of cargo pants. Both their sweatshirt and cargo pants were taped tightly with duct tape around the joints in their arms and legs. Claws now replaced their fingernails, but they weren't as bad as a Witch's. Normally, none of them wore shoes, or anything on their feet at all. Truly, they were like a pack of wolves. They would use howls, growls, and whines to communicate, and let out a ear piercing screech to alert others that they had found a food source. Their shrieks would also attract any other infected and normally a horde of commons.

In the end, I realized that I wasn't just living in some normal apocalypse with one species of zombies like in the movies. This was a whole new breed of zombies and whole new apocalypse. And I was smack in the middle of this hell and probably, just by chance, wouldn't survive, even with the help of my new trusty friend, Scruffy. Now, I was tasked with the ultimate task of scrounging up any courage that I had, or could invent, and use it to get the two of us through this thing, but all in one piece...hopefully.


	3. Starting Out Okay?

**Now that Mindy knows what kind of infected there are she'll be able to stack up on supplies to defend her and Scruff from each one of them. At least she'll try. This chapter, even if you don't like it, will have more of a description of what Mindy looks like.**

**Without further subdue here's Chapter 3!**

Mindy's POV: 5:00AM

Ever since the start of the apocalypse the sun never seemed to shine. It was always a red sky in the evening and during the day, then grey and navy blue at night. It was like the Sun had never existed in the first place. Scruff and I were forced to find ways to adapt to this never ending darkness, sorta like becoming nocturnal. On the other hand everything had been going pretty well. It was still morning and I needed to get up soon, so as to be ready for when the daily horde wanders through our area. For now, I just laid there, thinking about what the future would hold. Maybe some wandering survivors or raining food. Whatever it was, I hoped it would be something to turn the tides.

Mindy's POV: 10:00AM

Scruff and I had finished our breakfast a few hours ago and the two of us were now sitting on the front door steps. There was no heat outside so I had bundled myself up in layers of sweatshirts and socks. For Scruff, I just wrapped a scarf around his neck, since his fur was too short to keep him warm in this weather. The daily horde had passed by and few hours ago, causing only a few minor problems. The two of us were able to handle them when they came to the door or anywhere near the house. Since we hadn't gone out yet to gather supplies, the only weapons I held were house objects such as chef's knives and baseball bats. Scruff, luckily, was able to take care of himself, using his agility, strength, and teeth to finish off any infected that came too close. He had never faced any other infected besides the commons and once a Jockey, so it worried me that he would grow too confident in himself and one day go pick a fight with an infected that he could not win against.

Pushing the thought from my mind, I stood up from the front steps and looked down at Scruff.

"Let's go bud. We want to be back before the horde comes by again. And this time, we'll be ready," I told him proudly.

He didn't respond, just followed me as I began to find my way down the street, straight to the next town. My old town was now to full of infected that I could even go near the place. The smell was retched and the sight of dead bodies; both human and infected, made me sick to the stomach. And Scruff too, I could tell.

We wandered closer and closer to the entrance to the town, me wishing that I had a car to drive or some other means of transportation. Scruff didn't seem to mind the walking, having four legs and all. When we reached the entrance, there were a few common infected and Jockeys, which my partner and I took care of quickly. I wiped the end of my chef's knife, clearing the zombie liquids from it and then proceeded into the town called Ashfield.

We'd only been wandering for about five to ten, maybe fifteen minutes, when we finally came across a Wal-Mart that seemed to be in fairly good condition. I smiled, and then began to quietly jog over to the automatic doors. Of course the automatic doors weren't automatic anymore, so I had to break the glass using my baseball bat.

Being careful not to rub against the shards of glass, I silently slipped into the dark store, hoping that there wouldn't be any infected there to meet me. I helped Scruff through, though he seemed to have no trouble at all and didn't need my assistance. The store appeared to have already be ransacked of all its valuables, but there was still a few vitals that Scruff and I could use and take home with us. I let Scruffy wander around the store on his own, so that he could sniff away at anything he wanted, while I traveled to the aisle the read: HEALTH. I just hoped that there'd be something left to grab.

Luckily, there were a few things left on the shelves that held the most important things, and then whole shelves of the less important items. Grabbing a plastic bag from the register, I began to fill it with anything that could be of use to me and my dog. There were several rolls of gauze, a small bottle of disinfectant, some Band-Aids, a few pain relievers, and one wrist brace. In my eyes, I thought I had done pretty well in the health department and walked away feeling proud and prepared. I went off to search for Scruff, who'd probably found his way to the food aisle and started eating anything he could get open.

Of course I did find him in the food aisle, the meat aisle to be exact, and he was there chewing away on some frozen chicken nuggets. I knew he was gonna be sick in the evening, but I also knew he wasn't going to let me take them away from him, so I just let him continue chewing. Knowing where he was, I began to search through the nearby aisle to scavenge any food that didn't need to be heated or cooked. I grabbed some crackers, peanut butter, canned vegetables, an assortment of chips, and a few bottles of water. My bag by now, which there were actually three of, were becoming rather heavy, and threatening to break, so I grabbed a shopping cart and threw everything in there.

The two of us left the abandoned Wal-Mart satisfied and continued out romp around town. Fortunately, the shopping cart didn't creak or squeak, so it was easy to not attract attention to ourselves. I rode on the back of the cart as it wheeled down the street, Scruff trotting alongside it, his tongue happily lolling out of his mouth. As we continued down the unusually empty street, one building, an apartment complex, caught my attention. I brought the cart to a stand still and motioned for Scruff to stop as well. The complex was so unlike the other buildings that surrounded it. None of the windows were broken, the door was wide open, the building as a whole was still in one piece, and their was no graffiti on the walls.

Curiosity got the best of me this time, and I wandered in through the front door. The place was covered in dust, but everything seemed to be in place...slightly. There were some overturned tables and a few throw pillows on the floor, but otherwise it seemed like the apocalypse had never happened here. The kitchen wasn't as tidy as the living room was. The kitchen was simply in ruins. It was the biggest wreck I'd seen outside of the streets. Food, good and bad, was thrown all over the room, the refrigerator was wide open and running, liquids were running all over the floor, and packages of uncooked meat were ripped open and thrown on the table. Whoever was here must've been pretty hungry, as hungry as an animal.

_Wait. AS HUNGRY AS AN ANIMAL? Couldn't that mean...  
Oh no. Please no, don't let there be one of **them** in here. That's all I need is to come across one of **them**. And by one of **them**, I mean the most feared infected. Yep, that's right. Chances showed, there was...I couldn't even think about it. No...please no. _

I heard a low growl come from behind me and that was it for me. I lost any feeling in my body. Any heat I could've had disappeared. I slowly looked down towards Scruff who was now crouching with his teeth bared, his eyes focused on whatever was behind me, though I had a feeling a already knew who-more like what-it was.

_I am so dead. No one could survive this, even with someone like Scruffy around to fight beside you. It had only been a few days into my new life, and now it was going to end, tragically. I knew I couldn't, no wouldn't, survive in this kind of world. Ugh! Why did I have to be me? Why did I have to die by the hands of a Hunter?_

Neither my body, nor I was planning or turning around to face my upcoming killer, but apparently Scruff wasn't going down without a fight. I heard him leap forward, his claws scraping against the floor, and letting out a loud bark of anger. Not until I heard him whimper loudly, did I whip my body around to face whatever he had come into contact with. When I did fully turn around, I had to take a breath and re-gather myself before I could fully take in the sight before me.

I couldn't see Scruff anymore, just a limp figure laying motionless in the corner. That wasn't what caught my eye though. What took my attention away from my injured friend was the other figure standing over his body. Except this wasn't any ordinary figure, clearly. It wasn't human, I could see that, but in any other situation I would've thought otherwise.

Only when the figure growled and moved towards me, did I let out a long overdue scream. Then I didn't care who or what heard me, I just needed to let that thing know that I was absolutely terrified of it. And to make things worse, it jumped towards me, pinning me to the ground, and digging its claws deep into my shoulders. I could suddenly feel the blood beginning to seep through my shirt, staining it. The hunter paid no heed to my pleas to release me, and just continued to snap its bloody jaws at my face. Scruff hadn't moved ever since he'd been tossed across the room and I worried for my friend's safety.

My interest in hunters that I had once had before completely vanished. I was terrified of them now. These things could kill me in a split second, but this one was being weird, and I wasn't sure why. It was beginning to make my body shake even more than it was, and my world consisted of nothing but my killer. And not in a good way.

The hunter continued to snap at me, just a I continued to scream bloody murder. It dug its claws deeper into my shoulders, and I could've sworn they'd gone all the way through. To my luck, my body found the will to move again and I began to kick wildly at the hunter's legs. This only led to have my legs pinned down by the hunter's and the claws on his feet digging right above my ankles. This was all I needed to complete my time in hell. Now for the bloody finale.


	4. Predator and Prey

**This chapter, even though it seems sudden, consist of Mindy's first "proper," meeting with the hunter. No fangs or claws, just curiosity and a bit of sparking friendship. What should I name the hunter? He eventually needs a name, right? Also, this is the weirdest idea, but I was thinking: ****_What if Mindy also healed an injured Tank, one that hadn't completely lost its humanity and then became like her body guard or something, just that it didn't always stick around like the hunter would. Thoughts? Anybody? Recommendations?_**

**Otherwise, onward with Chapter. 4!**

Mindy's POV(still stuck underneath the hunter!):

What the hell was this hunter planning on doing with me? I'd been stuck underneath of it for five minutes now! Why was it prolonging my death? Maybe he was just making fun of me. It was getting pretty damn annoying by now. My vocal chords had become sore and my voice was too raspy to continue screaming, so I just took shaking my head rapidly back and forth, hoping it would let go now. I was running out of energy and wasn't sure how much longer I was going to be able to hold up this fight that I clearly was not going to win.

The hunter seemed to have the same idea about the fight ending soon and gave me one hard blow into my gut, knocking all the air I had left out of me, and man did it _hurt!_ I was seeing stars now, and not the good kind. My vision was beginning to go black and I all I was hoping was that the hunter would finish me off soon so that I wouldn't have to die a slow and painful death, like I'm pretty sure Scruff was doing. And before I knew what was going to hit me, my whole world went pitch black.

_Mindy's Dream/flashback:_

_I was running, not stopping, just running. I 'm not sure from what, but I knew that if it caught me there weren't going to be good results. All around me was a never ending black void, trees passing by every now and then. If only I had listened to my father maybe I wouldn't be in this situation right now. Or maybe if he' just listened, __**neither**__ of us would been in this situation right now. The voices of my family rang through the night, echoing off the "walls," of my mind. They were yelling out to me, yelling to me for help. They were talking about some kind of monster that was gonna take them from me. Yet, all I could do was keep running on and on, but never get anywhere close to them._

_Then images of them appeared everywhere, swirling around me like a pool of people. I would try and grab onto them but a gruesome looking hand would come and squash them in its grasp, blood spurting everywhere and blinding me. When I was able to wipe my eyes, I found myself back in the hospital room with the surgeons, but this time they weren't like they were before. Each one of them were covered in boils and abnormally sized, growling and moaning at me, all while poking sharp surgical tools at my naked body. I screamed, but no one heard me. I cried, but no one tended to me. Then, before I knew it the tools were stabbed into my body, scraping along the insides, and causing me to sink into a pool of my own blood. I was strapped to the table, so all I could do was take in the red liquid. I couldn't believe that I was drowning in my own blood! My mouth opened, to scream for my family, but all that came out were gurgles and mumbles, while spots of red filled my vision..._

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Mindy's POV:

Gasping for fresh air, I woke up with a start. I was drenched in a cold sweat and immediately fell back onto whatever I had been placed on. My head felt like it had been filled with led and it would snap my neck if I tried to sit up again. Groaning, I rolled onto my side to see if I could get a view of whatever kind of room I was in. As my vision cleared I could definitely see that I was in a small room. The walls were close and if I reached out I could touch it. I did reach out for the wall to search blindly for a light switch or door, but before I could steady myself, my whole body went over with my arm, crashing to the floor. The floor was concrete, I could tell by the wavering pain that it caused me. No way was I gonna be able to walk, or god forbid, think, with a head like this. So, to save myself from the pain I just stared at the ceiling, dimly lit by an overhead light.

I had been laying there for about what I could say was forty-five minutes until I heard a noise. It sounded like pouncing or jumping. Like a _thump thump _kinda noise. I couldn't move, so if it was something that could kill me, I was dead meat. The noise continued coming towards the room I was in, until I heard it stop at the closed door. There was no more noises, except for the labored breathing coming from underneath the door. Now I was really creeped out and ready to make a run for it, if I could dream of it. The door knob slowly began to turn until I heard the clear, noticeable _click_ of the knob and the door came swinging in at full speed. The door made a splintering noise as it was slammed, allowing the pouncing figure into the room. The light didn't allow me a clear view of his face and or his whole body, but I from what I could see, he was a rather larger man. Strolling over to me, the shadowed figure stopped directly in front of me and sat. Just sat there. It literally just sat there for the next unmoving in minutes without making a peep. I could feel the air thickening, making it harder and harder to breathe by the minute. _Or it could've just been me hyperventilating._ The figure seemed to sense my uneasiness and made a low growling noise. It didn't seem to have any intention of threat in the growl, allowing my racing heart to slow down just a bit. Seeing that my labored breathing had ceased, they figured proceeded to move on all fours, closer to my throbbing-headed body.

_No..no...no! Don't come any closer! I'm warning you, I'm as vicious as an attack dog!_

Instead the figure came closer and closer, until it was right beside me, looming over my body. It growled again, this time sounding a bit...concerned? I didn't know how to respond, so I just closed my eyes, trying to pretend this was all just a dream. While my eyes were closed, I suddenly felt a warm and sticky, yet rough object drag across my cheek. Snapping my eyes open, I found that the figure had brought its face closer to mine and was now...licking me? Beyond confused was only one way to describe what was happening to me at the moment. First I'm attacked by a damn hunter, then I wake up in a room, and now a random figure..._wait a second. The growling, walking on all fours, licking like an animal. Could this be? No, that's crazy...But what if it was? Could this be the same hunter that had attacked me earlier?_

Now that it was closer to me, I couldn't clearly see it's face, but I could tell that it was a male and wearing a dark, moss green hoodie, with the hood pulled up. Then I noticed that it's arm joints were wrapped tightly in grey duct tape, just like..._the hunter from earlier._

I was extremely freaked out now, and my heaving breathes began up again. The figure noticed this and placed it tongue back on my cheek, purring while it did so. _If it was a hunter...just by chance...wasn't it supposed to have eaten my face and gutted me by now? What in the world was going on here? _

Squirming slightly, the figure backed slightly away and sat back on its legs. From there, it just stared at me. Not doing anything, or making any move to get closer to me again, it just sat there. Through all this I had forgotten about my major headache and was completely focused on trying to survive this situation. Suddenly, as the figure and I were sharing an invisible staring contest, I heard a small whimper coming from the hallway. The figure growled threateningly, while I just listened with curiosity. As the whimpering got closer to the door I could almost clearly make it out as the sound of a hurt animal. _Now where had I heard that before?_ Before anything else happened, I found myself shooting up from my position, ignoring my throbbing skull, sprinting past the figure, and out the door into the hallway. Ever since the event downstairs, I had been longing to hear that sound. For sooooo very long.

As I rounded the corner of the hallway, I saw the face I had looked to for comfort ever since the apocalypse started. Standing, well limping, at the end of the hallway was Scruff. Good 'ol Scruff. He was clearly a bit roughed up, but nothing that some love and bandages couldn't fix. With tears streaming down my face, I charged towards the Great Dane, kneeling down before him and gathering his big body up in my arms.

"Scruff! Oh Scruffy! I was so worried about you! I thought you were...dead," I whispered the last word out, since I couldn't even bring myself to the thought of my new best friend's dead and unmoving body.

Scruff whimpered into my shoulder, then backed away so he could lick my face all over. And this time it wasn't gross, unknown figure slobber, but the smelly dog breath kind of slobber. I looked down to his paw that he'd been holding up so carefully, only to see a large gash down his forearm, covered in dried blood.

"Oh you poor thing! Let's go get you fixed up," I said to him, putting all my strength into lifting him off the ground.

Yet, before I could even reach the stairs of the second floor I realized we were on, I heard a low and menacing growl come from the other end of the hallway. I snapped my head around only to come face to face with something-or one-that I had hoped to forget about forever. _The hunter._ Now I could see clearly, that it indeed was a hunter, and it wasn't one bit happy about me being reunited with Scruff.

"Back off ya asshole!" I yelled at it, and narrowing my eyes.

The hunter just growled again, and crouched down into a position as if getting ready to pounce..._on us._

"I ain't scared of you!" I yelled again, with the most courage I could muster up.

The hunter took no threat to my words and simply began to make more growling and high pitched noises.

_Whatever. Go ahead and have your hissy fit. I don't give a damn, _I thought to myself, turning to head down the stairs.

Before I could set my foot on the first step I heard a loud bounding noise. _Oh god no. Please not this._  
As I turned I came in contact, hash contact, with a large body. When it crashed down on me, Scruff was thrown to the side of the room, whimpering in pain. I was in shock, as I looked at Scruff's injured body. I turned back, only to look straight into the hoodie of the hunter that had so rudely bounded on top of me. It went back to looming over me, growling lowly, and demandingly. Me? I had, had enough of this shit. First it tried to kill me and Scruff, then rescued me and placed me in a dark room, then went back to attacking me. What the hell was that creature thinking...or was it? I reached my hand down to my boot, where I had placed one small knife, and pull it out. The hunter was too busy studying me that it didn't even noticed. Using the small weapon, I quickly jabbed the hunter in both of it's arms and then kicked it in the groin. Hopefully that hurt. The hunter did feel the pain, and leaped off me in a moment's notice. Greyish-reddish blood began to seep through the hunter's hoodie, as it scooted back in shock at what I had done to it, not that I had felt anything when I did. With that happening, I rushed over to Scruff, snatched up his body and sprinted down the stairs, no matter how heavy the Great Dane was. Upstairs, I could hear the hunter trying to walk on its injured arms again, so it could come and finally gut me, but I was too focused on my poor dog at the moment.

As I rushed out of the apartment complex and into the street, I found that it was now dark out and that would mean more infected, especially special infected. Our shopping cart and stuff was still sitting in the front, thankfully, and I rushed to it. I didn't care what kind of hellish creatures were lurking about right now. None of them were going to get in the way of me healing my dog! Loading Scruffy up into the cart, alongside the bags, I began to push the cart down the street. Luckily, the streets seemed to be as empty as they were during the day. Only a few common infected and one Boomer, which I managed to get rid of, by throwing an box of crackers at the Boomer and watching it explode all over the commons. We didn't come across any other infected all the rest of the way home, which was a blessing, and allowed us to get back in range of the house within ten minutes.

Quickly as the house came into view, I had already scooped up Scruff and raced him inside. I placed his unmoving body on the couch and then returned to get the cart and things in it. After I had secured the door shut and made sure there were no infected around, I returned to Scruff's side. He wasn't moving, but his chest was still heaving up and down, so that was a good sign. Taking the medical supplies that I had gathered up at the Wal-Mart out of the bag I began to examine the wound on his foreleg. Since the second fall it hadn't gotten any better, but hadn't worsened either, also good. I gently took his paw in my hand and began to rub disinfectant all down the wound. He whimpered in his unconscious state, but I paid no heed to that. After the wound was decently cleaned, I grabbed some gauze and began to wrap it around his leg. Luckily, his wound required very little gauze, leaving enough for more severe injuries, which we could hopefully avoid. I searched his whole body for any more injuries that could need tending to, but only came across a few bruises on his side, which could heal on their own. A tsunami of relief washed over me as I reclined on the couch next to Scruff, who had now fallen into a much needed sleep. My heart had pounded and raced the whole way home. Not only from that damn hunter's presence, but because of the fear of losing my one and only friend in this godless world. Life wouldn't had been worth living anymore if I had lost Scruff.

Sooner than I thought, I found myself drifting off into a dreamless sleep, Scruff's head sitting in my lap and my hand on his head. What I had managed to miss though was something vital. I never noticed that we had been followed home...


End file.
